


Following a Familiar Pattern

by Alan_Smithee



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Character Study, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 09:52:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16302911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alan_Smithee/pseuds/Alan_Smithee
Summary: What they have isn't about physical lust or searing passion. It's certainly not a fairy-tale romance with a happy ending. The thing that exists between them in a series of compromises and understandings might or might not be anyone's ideal definition of 'love', but it's enough for them, for now.** "Gladnis" character-study wrapped in a filthy smut-flavoured candy coating, in the hopes of making it easier to swallow **





	Following a Familiar Pattern

Ignis was exhausted. Not just physically tired – Gladio had long since come to accept the Chamberlain's long hours and intermittent insomnia – the other man was mentally and emotionally worn down, even if he would not admit to as much. The Shield recognized many of the usual signs; at first, Iggy's tongue was sharper than usual and he seemed more easily irritated, then his appetite disappeared. It got worse when he had to start removing his glasses to tend to his eyes, watering uncontrollably at night from over-strain. He might cover well for the tiny cat-naps he stole en route between meetings, but Gladio noticed, and knew damn well they weren't deliberate. Ignis had once claimed that he slept far better in Gladio's company than he did alone; if that were the case, the larger man dreaded to think just how bad he'd been before. As things stood now, his partner was gradually heading for a collapse … and the Shield was loathe to admit that part of him was looking forward to it.

 

In his defense, he'd tried to help, taking steps to try and urge the other man to stop and rest. More than once, he'd suggested a glass of wine in the evening, rather than Ignis's favourite Ebony. At one point, he'd nearly succeeded in insisting upon an early night; he'd had Ignis stretched out shirtless on the mattress, eyes closed and sighing deeply as Gladio worked the lavender-scented oil into his perpetually tight back and shoulders. Still, twenty minutes later the Chamberlain was insistently re-dressing himself for yet another appointment, the Shield cursing anyone and everyone insane enough to schedule gods-damned meetings at eleven at night.

 

All the same, as much as he hated watching his partner push and punish himself to this degree, Gladio secretly anticipated the eventual end-game. He knew it was perhaps somewhat selfish, and occasionally felt a little guilty about the fact that when Ignis finally conceded to pause and take care of himself, he was also uncharacteristically willing to permit the Shield to take care of him. If past experience had taught him anything, it was that over-tired-Ignis seemed to undergo a personality shift – softer and warmer and less restrained. Gladio's conscience prickled slightly each time – perhaps he was taking advantage of the other man in these rare moments of weakness – but he looked to them as a gift regardless.

 

They both had a rare day off, uninterrupted in each other's company, but he'd missed the cue early this morning. Gladio was still more than half-asleep when Ignis had curled close, chest pressed against his back, a hand sliding beneath his t-shirt to lay against his pectorals. A few feather-light kisses to the back of his shoulder hadn't been enough to rouse him, and after perhaps ten minutes, the perpetually restless Chamberlain had seemingly given up, allowing his partner a well-earned lie-in whilst he went to prepare breakfast, and put in a couple of hours' work on the assignments he'd carried home with him.

 

It was past noon by the time Gladio joined him. He noted that Ignis, too, was still in his pyjamas, working diligently at the table on some project or another, as the Shield sprawled on the couch and commenced flipping through the television, intermittently tuning into bits and pieces of films they'd both already seen multiple times before. Ignis finally set aside his tasks and prepared the other man a plate, before joining him on the sofa to sort through emails on his mobile. After Gladio carried his now empty dish to the kitchen and returned, Iggy set the phone aside and shifted closer, insinuating himself beneath a well-muscled and heavily-inked arm to press against the Shield's side. He **was** tired, then … enough to forget to deny himself the kinds of comfort and affection he typically abstained from.

 

Over time, Gladio had come to realize that Ignis wasn't _averse_ to physical attention from his partner, but rather saw his enjoyment of such as some sort of personal weakness or failing – a luxury he couldn't permit himself often and perhaps never truly deserved. He felt his own heart rate momentarily jump, therefore, when the other man took the rare step of removing his glasses, setting them aside before adjusting his position once again, snaking an arm around his waist before pillowing his face against his broad chest with a weary sigh.

 

Tentatively at first, Gladio allowed his fingers to wander. Though he kept one arm snugly around Ignis's back and shoulders, knuckles drawing slow, lazy circles over his tailbone and hip, his other began petting gently, running his fingertips against the shell of the Chamberlain's ear, carding them through the hair at the nape of his neck. Gradually, his touches grew bolder, though no less soft and careful, mapping the ridges of Ignis's spine before they vanished under the collar of his t-shirt, then dipping even lower beneath the garment, stroking along the hollows inside his shoulder-blades in the way he knew Iggy liked. He earned an muted groan of approval for his efforts, and took it as encouragement to continue.

 

Some twenty minutes later, Ignis had all but melted in reaction to Gladio's careful ministrations. T-shirt long since rucked up to allow the Shield access to his ribs and spinal column, he now lay draped near-boneless across the other man's thighs, seeming to drift in and out of full awareness, giving the occasional shudder or moan of quiet appreciation. The combination of Iggy squirming in his lap like a spoilt housecat, and his small noises of uninhibited pleasure, were doing things to Gladio's cock, which had taken decided interest in the proceedings.

 

'He's over-tired and touch-starved', the Shield reminded himself; he should be striving to help Ignis relax, not getting the Chamberlain (and himself) worked up. Regardless, he couldn't help himself from dragging blunted nails along a prominent hipbone before slipping one hand just under the elastic hem of his partner's pyjama bottoms to squeeze at the soft curve of his backside. Ignis's fingers tightened against his knee, before the smaller man shifted against him once more, laurel-green eyes half-lidded as he rolled over and calmly made the suggestion.

 

“Shall we go back to bed?”

 

Bed, where Ignis could get some actual sleep. Or bed, beside which the condoms and lubricant were kept. Gladio had no idea which scenario the strategist had in mind, but certainly knew his personal preference as he swallowed thickly.

 

“If you want.”

 

With all of his typical lithe grace, Ignis rose to his feet, collecting his abandoned phone and eyeglasses, before starting down the short corridor to the bedroom, leaving Gladio to follow mutely. Once there, Iggy left his possessions on the nightstand and lay on the bed, giving a slow, full-body stretch, arms above his head. The Shield couldn't tell if he was putting himself on display deliberately, but it was nonetheless effective. The mattress sank a little more as he joined his partner, sliding his hand over Ignis's taut waist before roughly palming at the sharp protrusion of his hip once more. (Maybe he had a slight … fixation with this particular feature, but Iggy had yet to voice any complaint.) His other hand wrapped around the Chamberlain's wrists; there was no real force behind his grip, just enough to urge his partner to keep still as Gladio leaned in to capture his lips in a kiss, soft and slow.

 

Ignis gave a contented sigh beneath him and returned the kiss, pliant and willing, rather than pulling away. In spite of himself, Gladio felt his member give another anticipatory twitch. He was half-hard already, but as he palmed the other man through his pyjama bottoms, failed to find Ignis in a similar state. Nonetheless, the way Iggy offered up a soft moan and arced into the contact seemed like a clear enough signal to continue – he wasn't there yet, but he **could** be, with the proper encouragement. Any of the Shield's remaining doubts were allayed as his partner pulled one of his hands free and brought it to the back of Gladios head, urging it to one side in order to press a line of kisses along the underside of his jaw, seemingly unconcerned by the rough scratch of unshaven skin.

 

He allowed Ignis's silent assault on his throat to continue for a few minutes longer; as much as he enjoyed spoiling the Chamberlain, he knew Iggy became uncomfortable any time he felt as though things were less than equal between them, and so was willing to temporarily surrender. It wasn't as though he _minded_ the blond's lips on his skin, or long, refined hands moving under his tank-top to glide over his back and shoulders, tracing the lines of his tattoo by memory, or – by the _**Six**_ – the pressure of sharp teeth against his earlobe. Still, the position meant that Ignis's neck was likewise exposed, and turnabout was fair play; Gladio took advantage of the opportunity to reassert control, quite literally going for the jugular. Simultaneously, he shifted his hips to grind the full proof of just how effective Iggy's ministrations had been against his partner's thigh, bemused by the way the other man's breath hitched in surprise.

 

The tugging at his shirt was back again, as Ignis quickly attempted to maneuver him out of the soft cotton garment. The Shield pulled back to strip off the offending article with well-practiced ease, before reclaiming the other's mouth as talented fingers seemed determined to map out every line and muscle on his torso.

 

“Your turn,” he admonished gently, but was met with a soft sound of protest, even as his own hands slipped under Iggy's shirt and across his ribcage.

 

“Comfortable … it's too cold,” came the usual half-hearted protests. He knew Ignis was often self-conscious about exposing himself, and apparently wasn't quite tired enough to forget his customary reserve and modest instincts.

 

“Please … wanna feel you. **All** of you,” he murmured, punctuating his words with kisses across the blond's collarbone as he reached to pull the bedclothes around them, creating a makeshift cocoon. This seemed to be enough to appease the Chamberlain, who acquiesced to raise first his shoulders, then his hips off the mattress, making it easy for Gladio to peel off his shirt, then his pyjama bottoms and underwear, tossing the small bundle somewhere in the direction of the foot of the bed.

 

True to his word, he immediately lay down on top of Ignis and just _held_ him, tight, reveling in the sensation of all that bare skin pressed flush against his own.

 

“You too,” Ignis argued, as the larger man felt the pull on his boxers. Though Gladio wondered if it had less to do with 'desire' and more an interest in 'fairness', he needed no further encouragement, and his shorts wound up tangled somewhere within the sheets after being quickly discarded. He was achingly hard now, and noted the way Iggy shuddered at the sensation of the Shield's weeping cockhead leaving a damp trail of pre-come smeared against his thigh as he pulled the other man close once again.

 

The Chamberlain's arousal, however, still did not appear to match the level of his own. This was, in and of itself, not unusual – Iggy had always been more of a 'slow burn' – but Gladio was determined to build him up to it. With the kind of gentleness most wouldn't expect of someone his size, he trailed his fingertips slowly up and down the length of the blond's steadily burgeoning erection, teasing, and silently reveling in the way Ignis stiffened beneath his careful touches, breath coming sharper and quicker. The sound he let out when his partner finally wrapped a hand around his length to stroke him properly was nothing short of a _whimper_ , and he hurried to stifle himself by nipping and sucking another line of marks down the column of the Shield's throat.

 

Gladio worked him until he had Iggy practically rutting against his hand, fully hard now as he chased the friction and stimulation. Tentatively, one finger slid lower, brushing a barely-there question against his partner's tightly puckered entrance.

 

“This ok?” he questioned, waiting for the eye contact and nod of permission before pulling away to reach for the bottle of lubricant he kept stashed between the bed-frame and the mattress. He didn't have time to make use of it, however, as Ignis quickly shifted to stretch himself lengthwise across the bed and engulf the Shield within the wet heat of his mouth.

 

“Shit ….” he groaned his appreciation, raking his fingers through ash-blond hair. He was too large for the other man to take in fully, but it didn't stop Iggy from making the brave – or perhaps stubborn – attempt to swallow him to the base every time. He felt the Chamberlain's throat spasm in violent protest around him, and a few moments later Ignis was forced to pull back with a cough, eyes watering.

 

“Sorry,” the other murmured an apology, but Gladio didn't have the time to remind him he had nothing to be sorry for, as Ignis urged him to lie back against the pillows stacked against the headboard before curling up against his side. He earned another muted curse upon taking Gladio's cock in his hand and pursing his lips to blow delicately across the wet slit at the head of it, prompting the larger man to shudder. Most would never have expected how absolutely _filthy_ Ignis Scientia could prove to be behind closed doors, and the Shield counted himself lucky to be able to experience it first-hand.

 

Iggy's tongue seemingly attempted to follow the path of every protruding vein along his partner's shaft one by one, running up and down the length of him, occasionally pausing to glide just inside the edge of his retracting foreskin in a way that prompted Gladio to fist his hands into the sheets, fighting the urge to grasp the back of the advisor's head and simply fuck himself roughly into that teasing, sinful mouth. Instead, he allowed Ignis to slowly edge him orally, kissing and sucking his way over every inch of Gladio's twitching member and aching balls. Each time grey-green eyes looked upward, trying to capture and hold a gaze the colour of aged whiskey, the Chamberlain would give a sinuous roll of his hips against the mattress – a lurid promise of what was to come.

 

“S-stop for a minute,” Gladio was finally forced to concede, breath hitching as he felt his orgasm building a little more quickly than he would have liked. A bemused little murmur from Iggy at that, and the Shield reached down with one hand to rub at that spot between his shoulder-blades again, half-reward and half-apology. A clean-shaven cheek was pressed against his well-sculpted stomach as Ignis closed his eyes and went still; for a moment, he seemed to relax completely, almost on the verge of sleep. Nonetheless, only minutes later long, clever fingers were once more tracing the lines of his abdominals and his chest, immediately followed by warm, swollen lips. He allowed the blond to progress as far as teasing gently at his nipples before seizing him by the waist and flipping him over, reversing their positions.

 

It was his turn now, Gladio thought to himself, keeping Ignis pinned beneath him, back to the mattress. Haphazardly, he scattered an array of kisses and love-bites over his partner's neck and chest. It never took much to make Iggy's fairer skin bruise so _prettily_ for him, as the Chamberlain squirmed and gasped in reply to the affectionate assault. In a fit of honesty, he'd once admitted – so long as they were able to be hidden under his clothes – he actually **liked** the marks, would admire them in the mirror for days after. Since then, Gladio had always gone out of his way to ensure he left the other man with at least a few prominent souvenirs of each of their intimate encounters.

 

Retrieving the forgotten bottle of lube from beneath the pillow, he slicked his fingers and brought one hand to Ignis's entrance, applying gentle pressure against the small ring of muscle. It gave an anticipatory flutter – a butterfly kiss against the pad of his thumb – which the larger man answered with a brush of his lips against the corner of his partner's mouth.

 

“You good?”

 

“Mm- aah!” Ignis's hum of consent became a short, wavering groan as the first finger breached him. He was never **loud** , but in these situations he was always surprisingly _vocal_ , and the Shield was determined to wring as many gasps, moans, and cries out of him as possible before they were through. For the time being, however, Gladio sought to soothe him with another line of kisses down his neck as he steadily pushed in further. Iggy was as tight and hot inside as ever, clenching channel practically sucking on his digit as it probed its way in as deep as he could reach.

 

As ever, Ignis seemed the picture of control, eyes closed and breaths carefully measured as he willed himself to accept the intrusion. Gladio could feel the warm, slick muscle gradually relax around his finger, allowing him to press further into the sensitive passage. He tried to make things easier by offering a distraction, pulling back and wrapping his free hand around the other's cock, but Iggy flinched away from the contact.

 

“Too much,” he tried to explain with a small shake of his head. “Just … one thing at a time.”

 

Gladio couldn't claim to understand, but was willing to acquiesce if it made the other man more comfortable. “Tell me when you're ready,” he urged, bending one of the blond's legs up and back, to leave a trail of kisses along his inner thigh instead. Another restrained moan from Ignis, who brought an arm up to cover his eyes, seemingly making an effort to hide, to draw further into himself, even as he was steadily worked open.

 

“May I have two, please,” he requested, teeth worrying at his lower lip.

 

“You sure?” Iggy still felt tight, his rim circling Gladio's knuckle in a firm grip.

 

“If you're slow. Please?” a flush of colour had painted the Chamberlain's chest and what the Shield could see of his face, highlighting his apparent embarrassment at his own desire to be touched and filled.

 

He wasn't given much of a choice but to take his time, carefully easing another finger in beside the first, working against the resistance of his partner's body. The steady rise and fall of Ignis's rib cage, the way his fingers rhythmically twisted themselves in the pillowcase, and the set of his jaw painted a clear enough picture; Gladio knew the look of determined concentration he was wearing, even if his features remained concealed behind his forearm. Iggy was, as ever, focused and intent … even when the task at hand was simply to **let go**.

 

He clamped down with a small hiss as the second finger finally pushed in fully to seat itself deep inside, gritting his teeth as Gladio once again felt the blond will himself to relax around the penetrating digits. A small pang of guilt tugged low in his gut, but Ignis had _asked_ for it. He tried, again, to make amends, resting Iggy's thigh on his shoulder and leaning down to scatter more kisses across his lower abdomen, deliberately avoiding his erection. His own arousal was flagging as he wrestled with the idea that maybe the other man didn't really want this, was only going along with it out of a misplaced sense of duty and obligation.

 

“We don't have to … not if it's gonna hurt,” he offered the half-truth. He very much wanted to, he _always_ wanted to, but the thought of Ignis in pain was akin to dousing his own libido in an ice-bath.

 

“No,” Iggy protested with a shake of his head – still buried under his arm. “I want to … I want **you**.” The Chamberlain rolled his hips, as though trying to ride the hand currently half-buried within him. He still seemed resistant, but in the course of their time together, Gladio had gradually begun to understand; all of Ignis' issues with control meant that in order to permit himself this level of intimacy physically, he had to pull back and create some distance for himself mentally and emotionally. He'd hoped that as over-tired and malleable as Iggy had been on the couch, he might relent a little more in bed, to switch off the tightly-wound, self-critical part of himself and allow his boyfriend to satisfy both of them, but it looked as if once again, it was not to be.

 

“I want you to feel good too,” he reminded the blond, running his free hand along the other man's side, half-comforting and half-possessive, prompting Iggy to arch attractively against the mattress, leaning into the touch. More than anything, the Shield just wished for them to come together easily, naturally. Every time they did this, it was complicated … though he reminded himself sternly that if he didn't want to deal with 'complicated', he wouldn't have fallen for Ignis Scientia.

 

“It feels good. You're too good to me,” the Chamberlain offered his reassurances, briefly grasping Gladio's hand tightly in his own as it skimmed against his torso, before letting go in order to finally reach down and touch himself. Slim, tapered fingers gently encircled his cock with slow, steady strokes, until he was hard and leaking once more. Watching him, Gladio felt his own erection stir back to life, particularly at the sound of the succinct order that followed. “Condom.”

 

Ignis's insistence on protection, again, was psychological, as Gladio had come to learn. They'd been together, exclusively, for years now – there was little to no risk in forgoing one. Still, Iggy seemed to require the barrier, the separation, to feel truly at ease with the act. Even on those rare occasions when he'd consented to let the Shield fuck him raw, he was adamant about not permitting the other man to come inside him.

 

“You sure?” he questioned, pointedly scissoring his digits. Iggy still felt tight, and his cock was substantially larger than a couple of fingers. As badly as he wanted to bury himself in that slick heat, fisting his own aching endowment, he'd meant what he said about not causing his partner any pain or discomfort.

 

“I want you ... inside ...”

 

“Look me in the eye and say it.” He was willing to make compromises, to indulge so many of Iggy's rules and self-imposed limitations, but there were times the Shield felt compelled to assert some control of his own.

 

The offending limb Ignis had been masking his features behind was drawn back to rest on the pillow above his head, as the Chamberlain took a long moment to study him carefully. Despite his uncharacteristically disheveled hair, and the smattering of love-bites already starting to darken and blossom against his skin, the gaze with which he fixed the other man was even and serious.

 

“Gladiolus Amicitia, I want you to fuck me.”

 

The composed look, the dirty words in that posh accent… all of it, _by the Six_ , there was no saying no to it, as he felt his dick give another insistent throb. As he pulled away in order to retrieve the requested item from the nightstand, Ignis was already shifting beside him, rising from the mattress to sit up on his knees. The Chamberlain's hands found his trapezius muscles as he rolled on the condom, massaging firmly as Ignis trailed kisses up his neck, culminating with another soft bite to his earlobe as the blond rut his own arousal against the larger man's tailbone, making a deliberate show of his interest, and seemingly insistent upon proving a point.

 

“Lie down for me?” The tug on his shoulders urged him onto his back, and Gladio was quick to shake off his momentary puzzlement. Though not the picture that immediately came to mind when Iggy had asked to be fucked, it only made sense that the blond would demand to ride him.

 

As he settled himself comfortably against the pillows, the Chamberlain swung one long leg over his midsection to straddle his waist, before reaching for his cock. He gave the organ a slight, encouraging squeeze before lining Gladio up against his entrance and sinking down in one slow, smooth motion, taking him in all the way to the hilt. This time it was the Shield's turn to suck in a sharp breath between his teeth; Iggy's hole was clenching him like a vice, so tight it verged just on the edge of painful.

 

The blond, likewise, looked to be struggling. Eyes closed, Iggy was drawing deep lungfuls of air, and though he gave no outward indication that he was in distress, the fact that the other man's fair skin had paled several shades, combined with the bruising pressure on his cock, didn't leave any doubt in the Shield's mind that Ignis had rushed this. Despite himself, Gladio felt a stab of frustration and irritation. He was patient, **so** patient, in accommodating the Chamberlain's many hang-ups, but in this moment, he felt disrespected. He was fine with Iggy's need for control, but he'd always been clear that he found the idea of his partner forcing himself to do anything that caused him more pain than pleasure to be an absolute turn-off.

 

“Get off. It's too much,” he demanded, fighting to keep the faint edge of anger out of his voice.

 

“It's ok … I'm ok. I just need a moment,” Ignis breathed. Again, he wore that look of stubborn focus, demanding his body relent and accept his partner inside himself. After interminable seconds he seemed to adjust, his grip on the Shield's member easing slightly as he tentatively began to rock against the heavy length buried in his passage. Gladio leaned back against the headboard with a groan, palms running up and down the other man's thighs as he momentarily lost himself in the sensation of pushing into that sleeve of muscle gradually adapting to fit him like a glove.

 

“Why are you like this?” he sighed, slipping his hands around Iggy's waist to draw him closer, urging him forward to lie against his chest. Bracing himself on his forearms, Ignis pressed their foreheads together, eyes closed, and in reply he massaged the lower part of the Chamberlain's back, using his knuckles and then his thumbs to apply pressure along his partner's spine, earning a hum of pleasure in response. It seemed to have the intended effect, as the blond relaxed further and began to find a steady rhythm.

 

“I like pleasuring you. You don't enjoy this?” it was half question, half challenge, accompanied by a very deliberate squeeze of Iggy's internal muscles that elicited a grunt from the larger man. Gladio reminded himself of the futility of having any kind of debate with Ignis when his partner had access to his cock - it put him at a decidedly unfair disadvantage.

 

“Want you to get pleasure out of it too,” he countered.

 

“I do.” The blond leaned in to kiss him now, slow and chaste, burying both hands in the Shield's dark hair. “I love being touched by you … held by you … I love that I can arouse you,” he murmured, and Gladio thought he caught the barest glimpse of a smirk before Iggy's lips were on him again, once more mapping over his throat and jaw, undaunted by the prospect of stubble-burn. “I love **you** ,” he issued a reminder with a pointed roll of his hips that drove the Shield even deeper.

 

Astrals, this man would be the death of him. Abruptly, Gladio sat up, carrying the blond with him, keeping the Chamberlain balanced in his lap and bouncing on his cock. Thrusting upward as deeply as their shift in position would allow, he let his mouth and hands roam over Ignis's chest, biting, groping, sucking every inch of skin within easy reach.

 

“Love you too,” he muttered amidst the hungry assault. “Love this, but love **you**.” Grasping him by the chin, he pulled Iggy down for another kiss, employing far more teeth and tongue than the other man had done. Ignis moaned softly and let him, but soon enough, the need for control reasserted itself, and Gladio found himself pushed back down, back flat against the mattress, as his partner re-situated himself.

 

He marveled at the other's flexibility as Ignis kept himself precariously poised on the balls of his feet, his hands behind him as he adopted a crab-like pose. Again, he squeezed down, creating a rippling pressure against the length of Gladio's cock that made the Shield squeeze his eyes shut tight as he fought to keep his own composure.

 

“Open your eyes, I want you to look. At me. At yourself,” Iggy's voice commanded, gentle yet firm. Gladio met his gaze, then followed grey-green eyes downward, to where their bodies were joined. He realised then, why Ignis had opted for the acrobatics – it allowed him an absolutely _explicit_ view of his shaft driving in and out of the man above him. “Is it better? With the … ah, visual stimulation?” Ignis questioned, regarding him with a collected confidence that suggested he already believed he knew the answer. The Shield swallowed but couldn't quite find words to comment, choosing instead to answer with another determined thrust, and this time it was the Chamberlain's turn to stifle a gasp.

 

“So _big_ , Gladiolus. Feel you so _deep_.” Iggy was practically **taunting** him now, grinding down as far as he could, taking his member all the way to the base each time, before clenching his internal muscles again. He was putting on a show, and a fairly transparent one at that … which didn't make it any less effective? Ignis playing the wanton might be entirely out of character, but it didn't stop the dirtier and more primitive parts of the Shield's brain – not to mention his dick – from responding enthusiastically to the blatant manipulation.

 

Logically, he knew this act was just one more wall for Ignis to hide behind – another way to keep control, to mask and repress his own wants and desires. It was, in part, a retaliation as well … Gladio had once again carelessly brought the Chamberlain's sexual responsiveness – or habitual lack thereof – into the conversation today. Though the blond would never say it, he was likely now struggling with his own shame and inadequacy and embarrassment, spurred on by stubborn pride to **prove** something to them both.

 

“What are you doing?” he murmured, the question mostly rhetorical as he put his well-sculpted abdominal muscles to work, leaning forward to run his fingertips along the flat planes of Ignis's own belly, the touches so light as to prompt a ticklish shiver from the other man.

 

“I am attempting to be 'sexy' for you.” That Six-damned smirk – the little imperious one he wore whenever he thought Gladio had done or said something particularly thick-headed – tugged at the corner of his lips. “Is it not having the intended effect?”

 

“It's not my favourite,” he admitted openly, because while Ignis might be one of the most emotionally and physically repressed individuals he'd ever met, they were still nothing if not honest with each other. They couldn't work, wouldn't have lasted as long as they had, by telling lies or keeping secrets. It was endearing, truly, that Iggy was trying to please him with the pornographic display … Shiva's Tits, did that mean the Chamberlain had somehow made time in his schedule to _research_ this? … but it also left him frustrated. The point of this morning was to get Ignis to stop over-thinking, to stop trying, to turn off the analyst and the strategist and just **be**. “It's not _you_ ,” the Shield added in explanation, intending to ward off any further wounds to his partner's pride.

 

“C'mere. Get comfortable.” Or at least as comfortable as one could get with their partner's impressive endowment still buried in their arse. Taking Iggy by the hips he urged the blond forward, getting him to lower most of his weight back onto his knees, re-balancing himself with his hands on Gladio's chest. He let the other continue to set the pace, steadily raising and lowering himself, riding him with what had become well-practiced ease. He let his own hands continue to roam over the body sitting astride him, working soothing, encouraging circles against Ignis's skin.

 

The other man seemed once again at least marginally invested in his own pleasure, as one hand returned to his own cock, cautiously stroking himself. The other, Iggy brought behind him, and the Shield's split-second of curiosity was abated a moment later when his balls were rolled firmly against the blond's palm. With a deep groan, he involuntarily bucked harder into Ignis's plush heat, which seemed to be exactly the response his partner had been aiming for. Iggy grunted, then fondled him for a moment longer, before stopping abruptly.

 

“Is that good?” he asked, searching the Shield's face despite already being very much aware of the answer.

 

“Yeah,” he managed to ground out. “That's better.” Like some kind of sadist, Ignis opted not to act on this information immediately, riding his cock for several long minutes further before repeating the same treatment, and watching with an almost scientific interest as Gladio's breath started to quicken, the tight coil of his orgasm starting to build.

 

“'S gonna make me cum,” he warned bluntly. Immediately, Iggy stopped again, and there was a flash of something absolutely **devious** stirring behind the depths of fierce green eyes. He stilled in the Shield's lap, again letting his control over his pelvic muscles do the work, hole fluttering and spasming as he rocked forward again to steal another kiss.

 

Gladio used the respite to try and calm himself down, in the interest of trying to prolong their love-making. He didn't get to spend nearly the percentage of his waking hours fucking Ignis Scientia as he would have liked … when he got the chance, he wanted to enjoy it for as long as he could. He concentrated on slowing his breathing, and focusing on the sensation of the Chamberlain's lips pressed gently against his cheekbones and forehead, and not the delicious, silken pressure still wrapped around his dick.

 

Iggy rose again and resumed a tortuously slow pace, dragging himself centimetre by centimetre over the thick shaft twitching eagerly inside his passage. His hand went behind him again and Gladio's teeth worried at his bottom lip with anticipation, but Iggy didn't touch the over-sensitized flesh yet, instead opting to drag his fingertips over his partner's inner thighs, inching closer but avoiding their target, until his balls were all but burning for the stimulation and contact.

 

With one particularly forceful slide down, practically grinding their pelvises together as he took the Shield's cock down to the base, Ignis finally touched him … but it wasn't the firm pressure of before. Instead, he tormented the larger man by continuing the feather-light, barely-there brush of his digits over the hot, tightening skin. Gladio bit back a noise that probably would have sounded closer to a _whine_ of frustration had he let it ever escape his chest. He'd wanted to make this last, but he'd forgotten just how merciless his partner could be once he sensed he'd gained the upper hand.

 

The Chamberlain pulled away to brace both hands on Gladio's broad shoulders before picking up speed, impaling himself so forcefully as to rattle the bed-frame, harder and rougher than at any point in their session thus far. He tried to push Iggy towards the same edge, reaching between them to grasp at the blond's cock, and considering it a minor victory when he received a soft, encouraging little moan in reply. It was almost on the verge of being too much when Ignis suddenly stopped again.

 

It all seemed to happen in a split second. Iggy was once again bearing down, squeezing him in a slick, bruising grip – Gladio could practically feel the walls of his ass undulating along his shaft. Simultaneously, he reached back to firmly grasp him by the balls, rolling them inside their furred sack. The Shield's eyes clamped shut as he came with a rushed exhale, what felt like every muscle and tendon in his body going rigid for the split second before his release washed over him like a rip-current; buried deep, his cock throbbed and his nuts churned as he shot his load, senses deafened to everything but the feeling of hot-smooth- _tight_ dragging him under.

 

When he blinked back to full awareness scant moments later, it was to Ignis pressed against his chest - his now softening length starting to slip free – kissing him through the final jerks and tremors of orgasmic aftershock.

 

“I'm sorry,” came the muted apology against his ear, and his arms immediately moved to surround the other man.

 

“Why are you _sorry_?”

 

“I'm afraid I got rather carried away. I'd intended to edge you a bit longer … I should have demonstrated more patience with it,” Ignis started to critique and analyze his performance and Gladio was quick to cut him off with a kiss.

 

“It was good. It was really good. You didn't –”

 

“I'm alright. I don't need to.”

 

Of course Iggy hadn't climaxed – he almost never did. Not when they were together, at any rate. Years ago, Gladio would have taken it as a personal insult. It had taken a fair amount of time, and more than one uncomfortably forthright conversation, for him to accept the fact that his partner's needs and drives were very different from his own.

 

Pulling himself to sit upright, the Shield grabbed a few tissues from the nightstand to clean up. Exhibiting an atypical amount of physical affection in the afterglow, the blond cuddled close to him, laying a head against his shoulder. Gladio had barely begun to peel off the spent condom when he felt the shift in the other's weight, and noticed that Ignis had gone limp as a rag doll – out cold, his exhaustion having seemingly caught up to him with all the force of a speeding freight train.

 

After tossing the used rubber into the wastebasket, he adjusted the body dozing against him, laying Iggy down against the mattress, though allowing the Chamberlain to continue using his bicep as a makeshift pillow. His partner didn't stir, and Gladio noted with some relief that rather than his customary light cat-napping, Ignis seemed to have settled into a genuinely deep and restful sleep. The small lines between his eyebrows had vanished, his features relaxing. The tension he so often carried in his jaw was gone as well; mouth slack, he'd started to drool a little against the black feathered pattern adorning his partner's arm. Not Iggy's most attractive moment, but still, Gladio felt something in his chest surge. There was something sweetly fragile about him like this - though he knew Ignis would never take kindly to the sentiment. Neither 'sweet' nor 'fragile' were words usually applicable to the ever-capable, proudly independent man, and would likely be taken as grave insults.

 

Iggy might desperately need the sleep, but Gladio didn't, having already enjoyed a lie-in for the majority of the morning. Pleasantly sated, but very much alert, he felt no need for a nap of his own. Nonetheless, he had nowhere else he needed to be, and didn't feel inclined to disturb the man pressed against his side. He let the arm Ignis was resting on wrap around the other's leaner shoulders, and with his free hand, reached for his phone, intending to occupy himself with a few rounds of Kings Knight while the Chamberlain remained indisposed.

 

Stealing the occasional glance at his boyfriend, still marveling at the rare view of Ignis at peace, Gladio gingerly brushed a few stray strands of his hair back. So accustomed now to seeing the ash-blond locks slicked back, Iggy almost didn't look like himself with it falling across his forehead. As the endorphin rush of his climax started to ebb, he found himself reflecting on how they'd gotten this far …

 

Ignis Scientia's brain didn't work like most people's. He was so clever he bordered on brilliant, and that brilliant mind was one of the things that made him the person he was – and the person Gladiolus Amicitia had eventually (begrudgingly?) fallen in love with. Nonetheless, that same exceptional brain could prove both a blessing and a curse. It wasn't something Iggy could easily turn off; he was constantly thinking, trying to figure out the next five moves ahead, playing through multiple scenarios, planning for any number of anticipated outcomes. Mentally taking steps and precautions to maintain as much control as possible over whatever situation he found himself in. Multi-tasking came to him as naturally as breathing.

 

Ignis had tried to explain it to him, as best he could. It wasn't that he was averse to the sexual aspects of their relationship, but rather that he struggled, on a fundamental level, to experience the same levels of arousal and desire Gladio did. It was far too easy to get trapped inside his own head; staying in the moment, staying present and giving over his full focus to physical sensation and pleasure – it was a challenge. It was **work**. The Shield might regard sex as a means of releasing tension, but Iggy had come to see it as a source of added stress, particularly when compounded by the weight of his partner's expectations.

 

Why was Ignis even with him, then, if they were so incompatible? Gladio had been upset, frustrated and insulted that he wasn't _enough_. That all of Ignis's issues with control and performance-anxiety meant he was never going to be able to satisfy the Chamberlain. He'd even gone so far as to suggest a separation; they could remain best friends, but were seemingly incompatible as lovers.

 

Iggy seemed to have taken a page out of his own book, at that point, his response blunt and honest, verging on crude. On those rare occasions he felt the need for an orgasm, he would take matters into his own hand and provide for himself. It was rather a tedious endeavour, and took an inordinate amount of time and concentration, but he **could** , when he felt so inclined. The things he wanted and needed from Gladio were the things he could not get elsewhere – nor would he want to. Intimacy. Affection. Security. _Trust_.

 

Trust was a difficult thing for Ignis, he knew; hard to extend and build, even harder to maintain. All of that planning ahead meant constantly preparing for worst-case scenarios … and thereby expecting the worst from the people around him. Nonetheless he'd put his trust in the Shield, permitted him closer than he ever allowed anyone. He relied on Gladio's acceptance, even as he seemed to wrestle with the idea of relying on someone else at all. Iggy had never said as much – might not even be willing or able to put it into words – but Gladio wasn't exactly stupid himself. He was good at people, and had started to piece things together from certain comments, and things left unsaid. Ignis was fighting a constant war between his pride, which demanded independence and self-sufficiency, and a deep-rooted fear of being hurt and cast aside.

 

The blond had fallen asleep without thinking to pull the sheet up again, giving him a full, unobstructed view of the body curled against his side. It was rare for Gladio to be able to look and touch as much as he liked, and he allowed his fingers to wander over Iggy's back and shoulders, drawing constellations between the scattered moles and dark freckles that spotted his otherwise pale skin. He stroked down his side, broad, sword-calloused palm ghosting over his partner's rib-cage before pausing to squeeze gently against his hip. He was bemused to note the soft murmur from Ignis as the smaller man pressed closer, unconsciously grinding against his thigh; his body was more honest when he was asleep.

 

His partner was only human; he needed touch and affection like anyone else. Privately, he _craved_ it. Nonetheless, the prince's adviser had long adopted the habit of maintaining a set distance from even his closest circle. Even his cool, reserved, and professional demeanour seemed to discourage familiarity or casual contact. Gladio theorized that this was, in many ways, deliberate, because Iggy equated self-reliance with strength, and loneliness with weakness. Admitting to his needs was something shameful, and with the logic that he couldn't miss something he didn't allow himself to have, he'd made up his mind years ago to simply do without. Permitting himself things like warmth and intimacy meant he might grow accustomed to them, or worse, addicted, the same way he'd become to his Ebony. He couldn't allow himself a self-indulgent dependency on something he couldn't control – something that was for all intents and purposes a gift, which could be snatched away at a moment's notice.

 

It had taken a lot of trial and error, and even a handful of fights, but over the years Gladio had come up with a few rules of his own. He tried to ensure that Ignis never had to embarrass himself by asking, at least not verbally. As much fun as it was to tease him, the topic was out-of-bounds; he'd vowed to never ridicule Iggy on those occasions he did turn to him for comfort. He also made sure to never pull away, giving his partner free reign to touch as much or as little as he needed to. He could only hope the lesson had finally started to sink in: he wasn't going anywhere. The Chamberlain's trust had not been misplaced.

 

Ignis began to stir beside him, internal clock seemingly fighting his body's need for sleep. With a groan, he tensed and gave a full-body stretch, emphasizing long, lean lines, before instinctively reaching for the bed sheet to cover his lower half.

 

“How long was I out?” he murmured, sleep-roughened voice tinged with concern and self-recrimination.

 

“Not very. Twenty minutes, maybe.”

 

Iggy made a disgusted-sounding noise and sat up, before searching through the discarded clothing at the foot of the mattress for his underwear. He grabbed the piece of dark blue fabric and prepared to pull them on before frowning.

 

“These aren't mine ...” he muttered, setting Gladio's shorts aside and resuming his search.

 

“Guess we matched today. What's your hurry?” the Shield moved forward to stroke his partner's back, like warm silk under his hands, before it was inevitably once again covered by too much clothing. He wished Ignis enjoyed his body as much as his partner did. Gladio had always taken pride in his own physique; it wasn't arrogance, but simple truth that he was what most would consider an ideal representation of the masculine form. The Chamberlain's lithe flexibility and more gracile appearance didn't match his own sculpted musculature, but was, in his opinion, no less attractive. He felt Ignis give an appreciative shudder under his touch, and intensified his efforts, trailing his fingers over well-known sensitive spots along the blond's shoulder-blades and the base of his spine.

 

“Stop that,” the other muttered with fond exasperation. “I need to get dressed.”

 

“You got somewhere better you need to be today?” He disobeyed the order, continuing the feather-light assault, encouraged by the twitches and shivers he earned in response. A quiet sound of frustration bubbled up from somewhere in the other man's chest as he offered himself up in silent surrender. Stretching out with his arms in front of him, he pressed his forehead to the mattress with a deep sigh. While he knew Iggy couldn't see his victorious smirk from this position, he wouldn't put it past the strategist to _hear_ it as he moved across the bed to close the remaining distance between them.

 

The teasing touches shifted into a gentle massage, wordlessly urging Ignis to remain pliant and relaxed beneath him, occasionally interspersing the soothing movement of his hands with kisses brushed against the back of his partner's neck and upper back. The Chamberlain was silent, breathing deeply, and more than once, Gladio wondered if he'd drifted off again. The only indicators that he remained awake were the occasional soft groan or subtle shift to lean further into the contact.

 

He'd tried not to make this a sexual thing [again], but naked-Ignis making those Astrals-damned _noises_ had awoken his dick and had him half-hard once more. This was the version of Iggy he'd been secretly, and perhaps a little guiltily, looking forward to for days now, sleepy-soft and willing. Drowsy and uninhibited, as he allowed the Shield to spoil him completely.

 

Gladio thought he did a fairly admirable job of keeping his own libido in check, until he noted the occasional roll of the blond's hips, chasing the contact and friction of the mattress.

 

“Feeling good?” he murmured, grinning because he already knew the truth. In response, he received a low hum of approval. Stroking his palm encouragingly along the length of Iggy's spine, the Shield moved in closer. Close enough to feel as well as hear his partner's sharply hissed intake of breath in response to feeling Gladio's hard length slide beneath him, rutting against his own aching arousal, and the larger man's grin only widened.

 

Ignis simply didn't do 'needy', but definitely seemed into it, as the sound he let out when Gladio bit and kissed another line of marks across his shoulders was an outright _whimper._ His bum rocked up and back invitingly as he pressed himself into the Shield's groin, and Gladio couldn't contain a low moan of his own. It was so rare for Iggy to let himself go like this, and he wanted to try and commit as many of these moments to long-term memory as he could. Nonetheless, he was caught off-guard as he reached for the blond's hips only for Ignis to pull away.

 

A moment later, he understood why, as Iggy turned to face the headboard, burying his head and chest into the small mountain of pillows the Shield always insisted upon, backside raised in silent consent … or demand?

 

“Whrr d'j'ou pu c'n'mz?” came the slurred murmur from somewhere in the heap of foam and feathers. Gladio deciphered enough to reach for the box of rubbers he'd left on the nightstand, but not before running a hand over the soft swell of the blond's rear.

 

“Maybe I can skip one this time?”

 

“No.” Gladio told himself that he wasn't just pushing his luck (he knew damn well he was), but also making sure that Ignis was awake and coherent enough to properly consent. There was a difference between Iggy being tired enough to let his walls down, and so exhausted he wasn't in his right mind. The rejection seemed proof enough that the blond was still himself, at least.

 

“You sure about this?” he questioned again, just to be certain, as he settled on his knees and began to line himself up.

 

“Hmm. Want to ...” Ignis affirmed, and the Shield couldn't think of any further reason to argue with him, not when he was posed so invitingly, already fucked open from their previous round. His hands found the sharp crests of the Chamberlain's hipbones before he sank in to the hilt in one slow, controlled thrust, Iggy's smooth, slick heat offering no resistance. His partner gave a long, low groan, as though Gladio had just driven all the air out of his lungs.

 

“Feel so good … take my cock so well … so beautiful like this ...” he rumbled words of praise as he began to find a slow, sure rhythm, grinding at a leisurely pace, wanting to make this last. Ignis allowing himself to descend so far into sleepy submission was the only time Gladio could offer him these kinds of compliments without having them deflected by polite modesty or skeptical exasperation. He liked to think that it was also the only time they might stick, that Iggy would actually absorb and believe the sentiments that he was admired and wanted and genuinely, deeply **loved**.

 

Panting, Ignis was braced on his chest and knees, as one long-fingered hand moved to rest low on his abdomen, as though trying to feel Gladio's sizable girth stretching him out from within. Tugging on his hips, the Shield encouraged the arch in Iggy's spine that lifted his ass higher, allowing him to drive himself even deeper into that searing, clenching cavity, and eliciting another soft, keening moan from the blond as the Shield's cock seemingly dragged over all the right places.

 

“Ah … there … like that,” Ignis pleaded with him as his hand shifted to wrap around his own erection, stroking absently, almost as an afterthought. Gladio could feel the blond's inner muscles pulsing and fluttering around him, deliberately massaging his length and trying to pull him in even further.

 

“I got you … I got you ...” the Shield assured. He kept one hand at Iggy's waist, gripping tightly enough that he feared he might leave bruises behind, and used the other to stroke the length of the other's back, firm, gentle touches over ribs and spine and shoulder-blades a counterpoint to the powerful but unhurried thrusts of his cock. He paid careful attention to each stuttering inhale and over-sensitized shudder; he'd already hit his peak once, which dulled the edge of his own need and allowed him to take his time and focus on offering Ignis as much pleasure as possible.

 

“Feel you ... _please,_ Gladio...” the man under him managed to stammer out between gasping breaths, and the Shield swore he could feel his dick throb in autonomic reply. For Iggy to surrender this much trust and control, body, mind, and heart all simultaneously raw and open … typically, this scenario was relegated only to his private fantasies. It wasn't just that Ignis was begging to be filled and touched, Ignis was begging to be filled and touched **by Gladio**. He knew this was a privilege the blond had never shown anyone else, and was determined to ensure he never needed to.

 

“Can you lie down for me? Belly down on the mattress … that's good,” he urged, helping manouvre the Chamberlain into the new position. The process was a little inelegant, as Gladio refused to pull out completely, but a few moments later he'd managed it so that they were both prone on the bed. He wasn't afforded the same depth of penetration from this angle, but the additional closeness was worth it, the entire length of Iggy's body pressed beneath his own.

 

Ignis didn't seem to have any objections to the switch. His little vocalizations with every exhale, and the way he rut himself back into the wall of warm muscle pinning him in place only helped tighten the knots of lust the Shield could feel steadily building within him. As he nosed along Iggy's jawline, the other squirmed against the scrape of his stubble; when his head turned to the side, Ignis's bare throat called out to something instinctive within him and Gladio moved to bite and suck a livid mark of claim and ownership onto fair skin. As his teeth clamped down, Iggy gave another soft cry and his whole body seemed to tighten in response; the extra pressure on his cock was all it took to push Gladio over the edge, squeezing his eyes closed as he spilled himself.

 

A few moments later, when he came back to himself, still twitching with the last vestiges of his orgasm, it was to the muffled sound of Ignis's voice.

 

“Thank you … thank you,” he was murmuring into the pillow. The Shield quickly pulled out and rolled off him; Iggy was tough, but Gladio still feared he was large enough to smother the other man if he wasn't careful.

 

“What're you thanking me for?” he asked, bemused, as he moved to dispose of the soiled condom. “Wait, did you … ?” A small shake of the blond's head was enough to confirm that once again, no, he hadn't – a fact backed up by the brief glimpse of a slowly softening erection, as Ignis rolled over and immediately pulled the sheet up towards his waist. Legs tangled in the fabric and eyelids heavy, Iggy looked like some sort of lurid odalisque painting gazing up at him, and Gladio couldn't resist the urge to lean over and kiss him fondly. “Thank **you**.”

 

“Didn't do anything,” Iggy countered blearily, “You did all the work.” All the same, he didn't hesitate to draw closer as the Shield reclined against the headboard again, draping himself against the larger man and cushioning his cheek against a tattooed pectoral.

 

“Don't hear me complainin',” Gladio pointed out with a grin, using one arm to anchor Ignis in place against his chest, and the other to draw slow, abstract patterns against the Chamberlain's tailbone. He could hardly consider it 'work' when he enjoyed it so much. He felt Iggy settle against him, the last traces of tension easing out of his form as he melted into the embrace, breathing beginning to slow.

 

Ignis stirred slightly, bringing his hand towards his face, fingers tangling in his own hair. Gladio had long since come to recognize the self-soothing gesture – it was something Iggy did unconsciously, when he was trying to push himself into sleep. Very gently, he took the hand in his, resisting the blond's immediate attempt to entwine their digits, and replaced Ignis's touch with his own, slowly stroking through the baby-fine strands and cradling the other man's skull against his palm, letting the pad of his thumb massage the blond temple beneath it. Iggy's hand came to rest splayed out against his sternum, as if carefully measuring his heartbeat.

 

His partner might not experience typical levels of lust and physical desire, but it didn't make the after-care any less important … maybe it was more important, as Gladio suspected that Ignis probably got more gratification out of these interludes of post-coital intimacy than the actual act itself.

 

Ignis, by his very nature, was deliberate. There was thought behind every comment, every action, and he tended to put the same degree of careful consideration into interpreting others' words and deeds. Physical contact, especially, wasn't something to ever be treated casually; Iggy ascribed weight and meaning to every touch, and so Gladio was mindful to try and communicate the right messages. Here and now, he was doing his best to emphasize security. Ignis was safe with him – not just physically (that went without saying), but safe from judgment, safe from rejection, safe in the knowledge that his trust would not be betrayed.

 

He observed the way Iggy's skin adopted a faint chill beneath his palms, as the sheen of sweat they both wore began to cool. It was hardly unusual for the chamberlain's body temperature to run a few degrees below his own consistent warmth, but rather than opting for one of his usual digs about Ignis potentially having actual ice-water running through his veins, he reluctantly conceded to pull up the bedsheets and cover the man now resting in his arms.

 

Ignis pulled closer, seemingly on instinct, and his voice was so soft that Gladio nearly didn't hear the quiet request. 'Please.' There was an uncharacteristic note of uncertainty and hesitation behind the one murmured word. Half plea and half apology, carrying the full weight of the blond's self-recrimination as he sought some kind of refuge in the other man's chest. The Shield found himself fighting down a sudden surge of anger. He was frustrated that at this point, after so many years, Iggy still felt like he had to **ask**. That he still treated the kind of physical affection his partner was more than content and willing to provide like a grave imposition. Angry, too, at whatever the hell it was - something in Iggy's mind, or past experiences, or some combination of the two - that wouldn't allow the other man anything as simple as a six-damned embrace without entangling himself in knots of guilt and shame.

 

The flash of ire didn't last more than a moment, but still too long – long enough for Ignis to pick up on the sense that something was off, body tensing as he prepared to pull away. The Shield immediately trapped him, holding fast. Both arms gripped the smaller man tightly, and after a handful of seconds that seemed to stretch indefinitely, it was enough for Ignis to settle and still against him.

 

“Sorry … thank you.”

 

Gladio recognized that it wasn't the hug at the root of his partner's muted distress, but something to do with what it symbolized. Asking to be held was akin to asking the Shield to take control, and giving up control was something Iggy typically equated with laziness, selfishness, weakness – qualities he couldn't abide in himself … and qualities he didn't expect the Shield to tolerate. The larger man tightened his grip even further when he followed this line of thought through to its inevitable conclusion. Did Ignis believe that by asking for Gladio's affection, for his love … it meant he risked losing Gladio's respect?

 

“You're welcome. Always. You are _always_ welcome.” he emphasized, inclining his head to brush his lips against the crown of the blond's head, as if he could make the words sink in that way. If Iggy didn't trust him by now … again, the Shield wrestled with his own mounting frustration, willing himself to let it go. He knew Ignis trusted him, the same way Ignis knew Gladio loved him. The Advisor's propensity for over-thinking, the Shield's short temper – they were obstacles, challenges to be overcome **together**. This was why the pair of them worked, challenging and pushing one another out of their comfort zones, driving each other to be better people. Wanting to be better people for each other.

 

“Go to sleep,” he urged the blond,

 

“Don't leave? You're comfortable,” Ignis sighed a concession. It was a simple, unprovoked request for more touch and intimacy, Iggy wanting the contact for himself, and Gladio was happy to consider it a positive step.

 

“All those hours of training … and I'm reduced to a perfectly-sculpted pillow.”

 

“Space-heater, perhaps. Rather firm and loud for a pillow.”

 

“Ouch. Good to know I can always count on you to keep me in my place ...”

 

“I've got you covered.”

 

“Like a wet blanket.”

 

“Or a very dry one. Cutting, even ...”

 

“Trust you to provide an **exhaustive** list of synonyms.”

 

“Hmm.” The Shield awarded himself another point, when his partner failed to provide further retort. The verbal sparring match had unwound them both, relaxing into familiar patterns and one another's company. “Go t' sleep,” he rumbled needlessly, Ignis having already begun to slip under once more. Gladio swallowed a yawn, tempted to join him. “'M not goin' anywhere …”

 


End file.
